Behind the Barbed Wire

The sound of the heavy lock being undone caused my eyes to turn toward the door. Women clad in yellow and orange outfits walked silently into the room. The regular attendees were present plus several new gals. I smiled, trying to greet each person with love. Once seated, I looked around the table in amazement, silently praising God for gathering such a large group of women for our weekly meeting.

Prison ministry isn’t something commonly discussed at cocktail parties or family gatherings. Until a few years ago, it wasn’t something which I knew much about except for the random reference at church to Matthew 25, “visiting the imprisoned.” When my life took an unplanned turn several years ago, it opened up a door to my involvement in this hidden and misunderstood world.

Many years ago whenever I would drive by a prison I would look longingly at the tall barbed wire fence and think judgmental thoughts about the folks inside. I had no idea who these people were or what their lives were like, I just thought I knew what type of people they were. It wasn’t until I experienced my own brokenness that I realized we are all struggling with some type of cross in our lives. Some people’s crosses like alcohol and drug addiction, may lead to prison. Other’s crosses lead to a loss of supposed control in life and a need to surrender the way they thought their life would be. Either way, we are all known and loved by God who has a beautiful plan for our lives. We just need to take the time and have the faith to see it, despite our struggles.

Over the past five years, I’ve been privileged to accompany many women on their journey through incarceration. What I have learned most is that we never know how a person is feeling or what she has experienced in her life thus we should never judge anyone. Rather, we should love all people as the Lord has requested, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mark 12:30) When I encountered a feeling of total uselessness in my own life, I began to really understand this important concept. As a wife and mother working full time, I was a person who was easy to relate to. But all that changed after back surgeries and related procedures which led to debilitating chronic pain. When I couldn’t return to work, my life changed dramatically. Suddenly, I felt like an outcast, a person whom people were judging. I imagine my incarcerated friends feel the same way sometimes.

But God does not want any of us to feel this way. In the quiet of my days when I am weighed down by pain, I have learned that God’s love and mercy are boundless, like a mother’s warm embrace. Even King David who wrote Psalm 139 when he felt surrounded by people who were distant, felt God’s continual presence, “If I ascend to the heavens, you are there; if I lie down in Sheol, there you are. If I take the wings of dawn and dwell beyond the sea, Even there your hand guides me, your right hand holds me fast.” (Psalm 139:8-10)

In the seemingly tough environment of iron doors and concrete walls, I’ve learned more about authentic love, mercy, compassion and forgiveness than anywhere else. When our weekly program begins, I look around the table with thanksgiving. Some women who have never experienced real love have shown me what it means to trust God completely for everything. Behind the barbed wire, there are moments of joy and there is healing. There is always hope. Perhaps the next time you drive by a prison you could say a prayer which will benefit both you and the folks inside. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mark 12:30)